


live and die for moments that we stole

by eraseallpicturesofron



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boys In Love, Flirting, Fluff, Head of the Institute Alec Lightwood, High Warlock of Brooklyn Magnus Bane, Kissing, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:33:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28210191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eraseallpicturesofron/pseuds/eraseallpicturesofron
Summary: Nobody blinks an eye as Magnus’s ringed fingers trail up Alec’s bicep, secretly knowing the location of each rune, each vein, each little freckle, and asks in a steady voice, “Do you have a moment to talk in private, Mr. Lightwood?”Nobody blinks an eye as Alec’s gaze falls from Magnus’s eyes to his lips, or even as Alec’s tongue flicks out to lick his own, and says without allowing himself to smile, “As a matter of fact, Mr. Bane, I am available right now.”(or: Magnus and Alec are dating in secret. They aren't very subtle.)
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 3
Kudos: 112





	live and die for moments that we stole

**Author's Note:**

> this is rly just canon malec but it's secret so it's more fun :)
> 
> title is from another taylor swift song (this time it's "ivy")... stream evermore, babes

They’re both very good at being professional.

Exceptionally good, even. One might say that.

(No one does though, with the exception of Magnus, and Alec says that neither of them are really authorities on being professional, when their limbs are twisted and lips are locked during the recess of more than a few Downworld cabinet meetings.)

In spite of any technicalities, they have managed to keep up their facade for almost two years, so much so that their shared living accommodations during diplomatic meetings have been praised as “progressive Nephilim-Warlock relationships” (a budget saver to the Nephilim and a strange sacrifice of pride to the Warlocks). 

Any suspicion, therefore, can be brushed over in the face of praising professionalism. 

Nobody blinks an eye as Magnus’s ringed fingers trail up Alec’s bicep, secretly knowing the location of each rune, each vein, each little freckle, and asks in a steady voice, “Do you have a moment to talk in private, Mr. Lightwood?”

Nobody blinks an eye as Alec’s gaze falls from Magnus’s eyes to his lips, or even as Alec’s tongue flicks out to lick his own, and says without allowing himself to smile, “As a matter of fact, Mr. Bane, I am available right now.”

Tucked into the empty corridor outside of the Accord’s Hall’s ballroom, they skip over the small stuff, the “how was the Spiral Labyrinth?” and “has the Institute been keeping you busy?” and “you and me in Alicante, who would ever think-” and go instead to the issue at hand, which is far more important. 

Alec leans back against the off-white marble pillar, back sore from the position, with Magnus’s legs wrapped around his waist as Alec holds him up from beneath. He can’t deny his discomfort, with the sharp twinge of pain that hits right where his spine curves out, and the fact that he may be graced with angelic abilities, but Magnus is still made of pure muscle and his arms are starting to get sore.

His discomfort is easy to ignore.

“I. Missed. You,” he manages between breaths, because he hasn’t done this in a few weeks and Magnus is exceptionally eager tonight. His kisses start off as only pecks, dozens by dozens, fast and desperate and making up for every kiss that they had missed in the past few weeks.

Their lips lock for longer than a moment before Magnus pulls away in response. He untangles his fingers from Alec’s hair, Alec wincing as his hair cuts snagged by one of Magnus’s rings, and traces his index finger down Alec’s cheekbone. 

Magnus looks down on him in a manner that could only be described as dotingly, and there’s still an air of passion between the two that exceeds all things physical.

“Oh, my love, I missed you more,” he leans back in, but drops a kiss to the curved tip of Alec’s nose instead of his lips. “I pulled a lot of strings to be here tonight.”

“Yeah?” Alec asks, though Magnus’s teeth have already snagged on his lower lip and he was pulled back into a kiss. 

Magnus’s lips are slightly sticky from two flutes of champagne and they taste just as sweet as the flutes had been. Alec has never been a drinker, but this is the taste he plans on savoring even after the last drops have been drained from the bottles.

Before he can, though, Magnus ends the kiss and inches his lips away. He knows Alec will chase after him; Alec has told him before that he’s a goddamn tease, and they both know that he knows it.

As Alec’s lips curve into what could only be deemed as a pout, Magnus grins. 

“No. Believe it or not, not many warlocks were rushing to Alicante to meet with the most prestigious Clave delegates and Institute heads from across the globe.”

“I wish I could say I’m disappointed.”

“I don’t.”

At that, neither of them move in to kiss once more, and instead, it’s just the two of them in their own moment. 

Face to face, heart to heart. 

Not the High Warlock of Brooklyn and the Head of the New York Institute.

Just Magnus and Alec. 

Magnus, Alec, and the footsteps that echo from the other end of the corridor, without a doubt a Clave bureaucrat or Downworlder representative desperate for a little fresh air. 

This is part of their routine too, something that the both of them could certainly do without, as Magnus unlatches himself from Alec’s body and lets his feet hit the ground with a near-silent thud. 

Time for disappointment has come and gone (all part of their routine, as always), and Magnus reaches his hand up to adjust Alec’s popped collar and brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. Alec savors the touch, and brushes invisible lint of Magnus’s shoulder in return. 

“I would say,” Magnus starts, with a final swipe at the gloss from his lips that stuck to Alec’s, “we should get back to the party, Mr. Lightwood.” 

Professional face on, Alec nods.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Bane.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! if you liked it, let me know: comments/kudos/bookmarks are incredible <3
> 
> i'm also on tumblr!  
> https://alreadymissingit.tumblr.com/


End file.
